


The Voice That Soothed Angels

by IWillGoDownWithThisShip69



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Prompt Fic, Season/Series 12, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillGoDownWithThisShip69/pseuds/IWillGoDownWithThisShip69
Summary: written on a prompt: 12x19 the tapes are not the original songs but recordings of Dean singing them.That i then took off with and wrapped around a tree.





	The Voice That Soothed Angels

**Author's Note:**

> my first time writing ANY fics, but i had fun, and it gave me many feels to write, so hopefully it gives you loads of feels to read.  
> any improvements and corrections welcomed with open arms. And i'm very sorry with how short it is.  
> p.s i barely stuck with the prompt, so, sorry? i had fun though.

Cas’ hands shook, he knew he should return it now. He had disappointed Dean. He knew from the moment he’d looked up from the doorway that he’d disappointed his family. His appointed family that had given him so much more than his brothers and sister could ever think of sacrificing, that had supported him so much more than his father could ever be bothered to. And he had done it again, run off and left. He knew it was wrong, but he also knew he had to protect them, even if that meant losing them. He would do it. And so, here he was, tape in hand, ready. The walk of shame along the corridor began. 

Cas knew what this tape meant, it was foremost a show of trust, trust that Cas would not only look after it, keep it safe, but keep it a secret. And he’d betrayed that trust, maybe not Dean’s trust concerning the tape, but his trust in general, and the tape was only given because of the trust they’d earlier established. Trust that he’d smashed. Trust that had kept him bound to this family. 

Cas knew what family meant to Dean, he’d told Cas enough times “family means you’ve got each other’s backs, not matter what” and Cas hadn’t been there, no matter how much he’d wanted to be, no matter how much he’d pleaded with Joshua, no matter how much Dean called, prayed, cried, Cas hadn’t been there. He’d had to turn his back on his family and leave their backs uncovered. The mission was more important. 

A wave of nostalgia swept over his form as his gaze fell upon his room. He hadn’t meant to look, but it was always Cas’ luck that he looked at just the wrong time. That by the time he’d gotten his head above the water, could finally breath, finally see, he was already lost. The bed sheets were made, obviously one of the brothers had done that, Cas hadn’t. He liked to leave it unmade, lived in. A small picture lay upon his desk. A picture of his family. 

The tape slipped into his pocket before he’d even thought about it, feet moving towards the desk and hands grabbing until he cradled the breakable freeze-frame of time between his hands. A thumb and forefinger supporting it each side. One thumb moved on its own accord, swiping up and down, over and over, rubbing the lower side just left of Dean’s jacket covered chest. A small smile graced Cas’ lips, just enough to be felt. He remembered the day clearly. Dean had been working on his car, they’d all just come back from a long hunt, and apparently he didn’t want his baby to start rusting. Cas had been out there keeping him company and it wasn’t long before Sam had come out to find them too. They’d spent hours sitting around the Impala talking, not only about the hunt, but random things too, like favourite music, or food; sipping on beers, laughing, and suddenly it was broken by Sam jumping up and running inside. It wasn’t long however before he returned, this time laden with an odd contraption, to which he’d stood up in front of the open hooded Impala. Cas was confused, Sam was joyous and Dean was pretending to be put out. The result, an old printed out picture of the three of them, all stood in front of a vehicle they called home. The tear rolled upon its own free will. 

Blinking, Cas came too himself again. The mission was more important. He couldn’t help but slip the picture into his pocket too, settling it alongside the tape. He knew he shouldn’t, he didn’t deserve it, but he did it anyway. Turning he headed back out into the corridor, back out towards Dean's room. 

He’d been here before, they’d had their first kiss here, their last kiss. Albeit accidental and never spoken of again, it HAD happened. It had actually happened the same time as the tape had been given, just before in fact. He knocked.

The apology flew off his lips before he could even stop it, as soon as he opened that door he almost dropped everything, all plans, all missions. But then he came back to himself. The tape. The trust. 

Fishing it back out of his pocket he held it out, knowing he had to return it. The tape that had help him sleep at night, had made these past few weeks a hundred times less lonely and hard, but at the same time had loaded him with more guilt every time that sorrowful, country voice had blended with the guitar cords. Heart heavy Cas knew what he had to do now, betray Deans trust again, carry on with the mission, and this time without the one thing that had kept him going. 

What had surprised him most with the fact that Dean hadn’t taken it back was that it meant he still trusted him. Sure he had disappointed him, but apparently he hadn’t broken that trust, not enough anyway for Dean to want something so private back. It gave Cas hope for the future. Hope for forgiveness. 

Cas could hear what Dean was saying, but he wasn’t listening. He knew that if team free will really did this, as always, one of them would die. The angels had to do this, HE had to do this, it was his fault anyway, it always was. 

And so, later that day, as he slipped behind the wheel of his stolen old truck knowing that the colt was safely tucked inside his trench coat. He fed the tape into the barely working radio and listened. 

Listened as Dean husky voice echoed and drifted around him, allowed himself to melt for one moment and be comforted. Head leaning back, solidifying in his mind that this was the right thing to do. To have used his knowledge of where the colt was hidden, that he had gained when he used to lay he head next to Dean’s on the odd occasions and had learnt that the lumps under the pillow were from any object that had ever meant anything to him. To have used Dean’s trust in him to slip out of the bunker unnoticed again. To have used Dean's voice to carry on, on his wayward mission to save the brothers, to save his family. 

Key turned and engine choking to life, Cas let the tear flow free this time as Stairway To Heaven played on, acoustic and dismal. This would be a hard journey, but a journey worth making. A sacrifice worth making.


End file.
